


Your Hands, Full of Glory

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Foxtrot [123]
Category: Dollhouse, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crossover, M/M, not actually RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Multiverse, Any, <i>I like your hands / All full of glory / All full of glory</i>"</p><p>In an installment of the Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable, Pianist wants to go to a piano bar. John appreciates Rodney's hands. Rodney is a lightweight. And everyone at the bar knows how much John appreciates Rodney's hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Hands, Full of Glory

Rodney blamed the entire series of events on Evan, he really did. Some smart-mouthed Marines on base told Evan they thought he was a boring old man, and suddenly Evan was determined to have _the greatest adventure in the history of basic cable_. And because Evan was touchy-feely and sensitive (how? He was a soldier! He’d killed people _for his job_ ), he’d insisted the imprints have a say in what they do. (No one was allowed to speak about the Traci Night, which had begun with them going to a beginner belly dance class and ended with a trip to the ER over a sprained joint.)  
  
A piano bar wasn’t a horrible idea, though. Pianist, while he’d trained as a concert performer, had made money at a piano bar, so naturally he knew the good bar in town. They could sit around, have drinks, and inflict their music on each other (Rodney was a bit alarmed at how both Evan and Joe had come armed with dollar bills, like they were going to a strip joint).  
  
There were three pianos in the joint, one grand, two upright. The two upright were for the two pianists who would play for tips and also, once an hour, have a piano battle. The third piano was for challengers, though. The two pianists - Tobias was dark-haired and had an Eastern European cast to his features, Wendy had red-brown hair and limpid gray eyes and a British accent - recognized John immediately, could even differentiate him from Joe.  
  
“Are you going to challenge us tonight?” Tobias asked.  
  
“No,” John said, “but Rodney is.”  
  
Wendy and Tobias eyed Rodney with interest.  
  
“Rodney’s your man, yes?” Wendy raised her eyebrows. “The one you say has Rachmaninov in him?”  
  
John nodded.  
  
“Let us know when and where,” Tobias said, and actually cracked his knuckles.  
  
Joe shuffled them all over to a table - they had a regular, it seemed; he had accompanied John to the bar before. The waitress, Kenna, brought Joe and John their usuals, took orders from Evan and Rodney, and bustled back to the bar.  
  
Joe took a sip of his usual - coke and rum - and then bounced over to Tobias’s piano, dropped a tip in his tip jar, and asked for his favorite song: David Bowie’s Life On Mars. Tobias had a lovely tenor voice and could do an admirable imitation of David Bowie.  
  
Joe plopped back down at the table and began to sway along to the song, and then John was swaying with him, and okay, maybe Evan wasn’t the only one whose brain went a little broken when John and Joe were pulling a bit of a twin act.  
  
That was just the start of it. Evan requested Billy Joel’s Piano Man, because he was a bit of a traditionalist that way, and somehow he ended up dueting with Wendy, who had an amazing set of pipes for such a tiny woman.  
  
Somewhere in the middle of it all, Rodney and John pooled their share of the dollar bills and got both pianists to play We Will Rock You/We Are The Champions, and the entire bar ended up singing along, arms slung around each other’s shoulders and swaying in unison.  
  
At the end of it, Rodney was terribly inebriated, seated at the grand piano, and warming up to play St. James Infirmary. The fact that John was sitting beside him on the piano bench, pressed up against his side and swaying with him and singing along with him - using Songwriter’s pretty pop-friendly tenor, too - made Rodney somehow think what he was doing was perfectly all right. He was pretty sure he remembered the rest of the bar hooting and hollering and cheering, so he was probably totally owning Tobias and Wendy in the piano challenge.  
  
He was cognizant of John dragging him off to the bathroom after that, hustling him into the handicapped stall, pinning him up against the door, and dropping to his knees.   
  
“John, what -?”  
  
John leaned forward, gripped Rodney’s hips tightly, and sucked the tip of one of Rodney’s fingers into his mouth.  
  
What happened after that was fuzzy. Fun, for parts of it. Apparently John had some kind of fetish for Rodney’s hands when he was playing the piano. There was an orgasm.

But there was also pain and Evan and Joe shouting and bright lights and sirens, and Rodney sitting on a hospital cot with a pack of ice pressed to his bleeding scalp while Joe and Evan explained to a nurse that Rodney had had a bit too much to drink, John had helped him to the bathroom, and Rodney had slipped and hit his head.  
  
After the nurse left, wearing an insultingly disbelieving expression, John curled up on the cot beside Rodney and tucked in beside him.  
  
“I like your hands,” he said.  
  
“I know.” Rodney smiled at him.  
  
“The entire bar knows,” Evan muttered.  
  
“So, Rodney’s a lightweight,” Joe said. “Didn’t know that.”  
  
“It’s filed away for future reference, you can be sure.” Evan sighed. “I’m guessing this is going to be something else we can never talk about.”  
  
Later, Rodney would agree with Evan’s assessment about that evening overall - but he’d definitely be talking to John about arranging private piano recitals for him in the future.


End file.
